Page 23 of Savannah Sweethearts

As we strolled along, I took Tyrell’s hand. “I’m glad you figured out where Sabra went. That had to worry you.”

He nodded, his face grim. “It did. Not for my sake, but for the girls. They knew she was going to get them, and she didn’t show up. So, she let them down. Again. I don’t want to call it child abandonment, especially if she comes back in a few days, but what else could it be?”

I shrugged. “We were taught, as teachers, to look for signs of abuse. But we’re taught to look for physical signs. Things like this just aren’t covered. At least, they have you for stability.”

A shop filled with children’s toys seemed to beckon to me, and I pulled Tyrell inside. We spent fifteen minutes playing with toys and laughing. I picked out two little princess wands and bought them. Green for Saffi and pink for Sami. At least I could color-code them to know who was who.

Taking my hands in his, Tyrell looked at me with a serious expression. “You don’t have to buy them gifts. They like you just fine.”

I nodded, knowing what he was trying to really say. “I’m not trying to buy their affection. Or yours. I just want to do something nice for them. Gifts are my love language.”

A grim smile crossed his face as he looked away from me. “I can’t give you all those gifts, Ash.”

We exited the store, and I stopped him on the sidewalk. “It’s not about money, and you know it. You could grab my favorite candy bar at the store. Or I can get the girls cheap, plastic wands or give you something small. It’s just something that shows the giver was thinking about the receiver. That’s all. It’s not about diamonds or expensive perfumes or anything else. It’s a simple thing.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure?”

I tilted my head. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. And since I don’t lie, I’m starving, and I want shrimp.”

One of my favorite places was a block down, so we went there and sat on the same side of the booth, cuddled up and eating bottomless plates of shrimp and fries.

As we left, I asked Tyrell one of my favorite questions. “What’s your five-year plan?”

“You still ask people that?” The laughter made his words nearly indecipherable.

It was true—I had loved to ask that question my whole life. I had learned it from my father. “Of course, I do. How else will I know what their five-year plan is?”

We linked arms and moved away from the crowd that always inhabited the area. A comfortable silence came over us, and I allowed him time to think.

It took a moment before he finally began to speak. “Before you showed back up, I had just hoped to keep the pace—watch the girls grow, take care of Mom, do good at work. I wondered about moving up the ladder at the station, but there’s not much else for me without moving. And you know I can’t leave my family.”

“What about finding love?”

He shrugged. “If it had suddenly happened, maybe. But I wasn’t looking. At least, not looking hard. Between Mom, Sami, and Saffi, I had enough women around me.”

He was not wrong there. There were plenty of women in his life. I stopped walking and faced him. “How about now that we have reconnected?”

The grin on his face told me enough, but I wanted to hear it. “Now? In the next five years, I want to get married to a gorgeous brunette, maybe find a bigger house for everyone. I would love to add to the family, if that’s in the cards, but if not, I’m content.”

Of course, he wanted more children. Why wouldn’t he? I shook my head. “Tyrell, you know…”

He put a finger to my lips. “We can adopt. We can look into whatever you would like. But I know you, and I know you would love to raise a child from day one. As long as we’re together, Ashley.” He closed the gap between us and hugged me tight.

The scent of bergamot and cinnamon filled the air as I breathed him in. “Are you sure?”

“You listen to me, Dream Girl. I will never be rich enough or come from old money. Does that matter?” He pulled back and looked me in the eyes.

“Of course not.”

Then he grabbed me by the shoulders. “You will never give birth to a child, and that does not matter to me. You are still perfect.”

I cried. The big, ugly cry that you see in movies. Ten years’ worth of tears.

“I love you.”

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